Puppets Of Truth

Puppets Of Truth
© Surazeus
2017 08 31

I never thought that I would see the day
when our president is a Russian puppet
and Germany condemns us for our Nazis.

When the hidden dragon through storm of war
rises from the crowd to become the king
who embodies the virtues of the age,
and leads his nation from the bleak abyss
through the waste land of horror and despair
to build the citadel of heaven strong
around the bubbling pool of paradise,
he freezes into the statue of stone
after his body and mind crumble to dust.

When the Soviet Union broke apart
the tall steel statues of Lenin and Stalin
were torn down from their lofty pedestals
and melted down as parts for motor cars,
then, when the knights of the cross stormed Iraq
and hung the dictator they put in power,
statues of Sadam Hussein were dragged down
and farmers stomped on his head with their shoes.

Now the statues of Christopher Columbus
and Robert E. Lee, long standing supreme
over our fertile land of liberty,
are being torn down in the United States
for the empire where we lived eighty years
vanishes in the wind of turning time,
and we gather by the river at dawn
to construct a new and better Zarathi
where everyone is equal under law.

What noble people who performed great deeds
out of billions who once lived on this world
shall we present on pedestal of truth
as gods who embody our noblest virtues,
or shall we let those pedestals stand empty
to represent our disdain for all kings,
except for feet of Ozymandias,
to show we now respect the game of Death
who hurls down every king from throne to grave?

We slaughter each other in bloody wars
over who will drink from river of life,
then our children intermarry and breed
new generations who prefer to build
and sing together in temple of peace,
then erect statues of us where we stand
staring mute and blind at progress of man
as he transforms technology of wit
from wagon to car to rocket of stars,
and all our children sing hymns to our names.

God appears before my eyes in white light,
tall bearded man with face and beaming eyes
of my father, and reaches out his hand
to place scepter of wisdom in my hand,
so I mold scepter into a sharp sword
and chop off the heads of arrogant kings,
then I mold the sword into a long tube
that fires bullets molded as silver spheres
and shoot the heads of slave-traders and thieves,
then I mold the gun into a small camera
to film the history of prophets and kings
in epic of power since God ruled the world
in mortal flesh ten thousand years ago.

While standing on the mountain in gray mist,
gazing east to discover the lost path
my ancestors journeyed ten thousand years
since we all first spread from high pyramid
where First Mother gave everyone new name,
I realize with a soul-shivering laugh
that I am God because I dream the stars
evolving from sea of transcendent light
which congregates in warm body of flesh.

We are all singing fragments of the sun
who wake from dream of the swirling sea,
and chant harmonic vibration of hope
as we make love to generate new life,
though first we defeat the puppet of lies
and dance in circles around the cool spring,
for we are the stringless puppets of truth.

Battle For Heaven

Battle For Heaven
© Surazeus
2017 08 30

Athelwulf stands before the silent crowd,
gripping long sharp sword as he stares in eyes
that shimmer with fear behind haven walls.

"I would make myself king of all the world
by chopping off the heads of haughty fools
who refuse to obey my stern command,
but I prefer to inspire loyal love
so you obey me with a willing heart
as we unite together in one mind
to maintain peace and insure honest justice.
Instead of many disunited clans
who contend over rights to fertile lands,
one kingdom of all nations bound by love
should flourish on our island in the mist.
Accept me as more than just martial king
who leads you to defend our families
in battle for heaven where we live free,
and trust the honest judgment of my law
to deal with equal justice toward all men,
so look up to me as father of all
who organizes actions of each person
in crafty cooperation of work
as we build better garden in stone walls
where our children play free among fruit trees.
To achieve this goal of united lands
we must grip sword and shield with steady hands
and fight together against enemies,
willing to die to insure that our nation
survives many generations to come.
Now follow me with bold hearts to offend
thieves and slavers who attack our safe haven."

Athelwulf raises his sword to the sky
and the warriors roar as they charge forward
and fight till every man lies on the Earth,
blood of their hearts soaking the thirsty soil.
Young children play chase among blooming flowers
where their skulls crumble to dust in the wind.

City Of Glass

City Of Glass
© Surazeus
2017 08 29

The dead who walk on the water at dawn
when hurricanes flood the city of glass
bring you dead ravens in their trembling hands
and stand mute at the locked doors of the church.

The shades of their lost souls on red brick wall
flicker for a moment when dancing trees
sway in gusts of wind from the aching sea
and call to you from hidden cave of death.

They follow you everywhere you may go
but when you turn to see grief-stricken faces
they vanish nameless from your memory
and pictures of their spirits rot in mud.

You pray for them in your homes far away
and proclaim in church after you have prayed
that they are now up in Heaven with God
but the sky is empty where your prayers float.

Their bodies float in the waters that drown
the city of towers where bankers count
profits streaming into secret accounts,
and butterflies feast on the fallen clown.

The apparitions of the dead return
each evening when the hurricane blows wild
so you can hear their songs keening in wind
that strips illusions from temples of lies.

Flood waters submerge the highways of Houston
where rich overlords ride gold limousines
to feast in bright church of prosperity
while the dead rescue each other with boats.

The statue of the singer who stands tall
on the twelve foot pedestal now appears
to walk on water that shimmers in light
and reflects the faces of nameless souls.

Silver Wings Of Liberty

Silver Wings Of Liberty
© Surazeus
2017 08 28

Luke Skywalker stands on the shimmering plain
as desert wind swirls around family dome,
and gazes at twin suns of Tatooine
that gleam with ache of opportunity
through the lonely haze of the timeless sky
till they vanish beyond the blank horizon,
then sighs as he stares up at twinkling stars.

"How I long to escape this ball of dust,
soaring on silver wings of liberty,
and shoot into the boundless void of hope
to glide among the shining stars of life.
All my life I have helped my Uncle Owen
tend his farm to produce nutritious crops,
coaxing seeds to sprout from this barren soil,
while strange eager flame of restless desire
stirs me to race across the galaxy
and visit every planet rich with life.
Other than face of my kind Aunt Beru,
whose tender lullabies glow in my heart,
and gentle hand calms my restless ambition,
I have no memory of my sweet mother,
and yet I seem to see in gleaming stars
contours of her face, and her shining eyes
that ever watch me with wordless concern
from the empty sky where I search for love.
What fierce ache of longing for great adventure
simmers deep in the cavern of my heart
like flames burning bright in the cooking pit,
and drives me to leap in flying machine
and soar swifter than lightning through the sky
as if the spirit of my father roars
in suppressed passion from my beating heart?
Whenever I look with propitious eyes
in the mirror of desire and hope,
I think I see the mask my father wore
when he first gazed up at the boundless sky
with longing to fly swift between the stars.
This dreary globe of waterless dust sucks
my soul down into its featureless sands,
trapping my heavy soul in sterile clumps,
yet that grating friction of hissing sand,
which compresses my mind in stifling rage,
instead of crushing me senseless and numb
fuels the raging flames of my fierce desire
to extract trembling wings from broken shell
of my heart, shattered by dreary despair,
and spread them wide to catch the howling wind
so I may leap light into the broad sky.
How can this little fragile ball of dust
trap my enthusiastic spirit tight
against its withered breast of milkless dugs
when my imagination well projects
visions of my swift flight from world to world?
Though I can conceive my quick liberty
yet I cannot see what chain of events
might propel my escape from this dull world
to seek grand adventure among the stars.
Whenever opportunities arise
that leave clear threads of clues through labyrinth
of desperate hope to perform noble deeds
I will leap to follow that clear guiding star
beyond the imprisoning walls of duty
to play my part on stage of history,
urged by my desire for justice and truth.
Perhaps if I follow my best friend Biggs
and join the Imperial Academy
I may learn to pilot a fighter starship,
then I can leave to join the rebel alliance 
to battle tyrants and rescue the weak
that frees the galaxy from blind oppression.
I hear my Aunt Beru now calling me.
Once I tend the new droids we bought today,
perhaps I can slip away to Mos Eisley
and join the Imperial Academy,
yet duty to the good uncle who raised me
constrains me to remain another season,
at his desperate request for my strong help,
promising me I can sign up next year,
and then I can escape this dusty rock
and soar on beams of light among the stars."

Luke turns away from gazing at the stars
and trudges to sleep under the dome
while lights of a large imperial cruiser
blink with alarm above the spinning world.

Ring Of Hyacinth

Ring Of Hyacinth
© Surazeus
2017 08 26

Though all the world is trembling with war
and public squares echo with arguments
about who can claim rights to benefit
from privileged access to power and wealth
I walk alone the wordless river shore
and converse with the wind about the truth.

Though revolutions are started by youth
who assemble gangs to break down the door
to temples where treasure chests preserve health
the chess game cannot flow commensurate
with history invented in documents
that conceal in code the most ancient lore.

The mirror of your eyes reveals the dream
where we hold hands while following the thread
of secret facts through our dark labyrinth
to find our way back home to paradise
while escaping the world war that destroyed
our experiment in democracy.

I am the king of your theocracy
whose idol rises from the swirling void
because I invented the best devise
that conveys my love to dear Hyacinth
although she wears my ring since we were wed
that I found gleaming in the eyeless stream.

When the greedy tyrant steals the gold key
that leads to the tower room of thought control
take arms against wild sea of troubled plays
and rewrite their script with new prophecy
so everyone must play your new weird game
to win the prize that crumbles from their hand.

Though conflict rages across our free land
I must discover my new divine name
then lead lost souls to found this colony
where sunlight glimmers gold through evening haze
so I assume new angelical role
chanting hymns that worship our mother sea.

Since I now wear the ring of Hyacinth
that bestows on me supernatural powers
of enchanting brains with visions of truth
I find myself swimming against the tide
and always at odds with society
so I stand on the street and sing weird spells.

No wedding will happen with ringing bells
nor will children revel in gaiety
till Gaia returns as my honest bride
who will teach me to rule the world with ruth
since bees that pollinate fruit trees and flowers
support our whole empire with fertile plinth.

Heaven On Earth

Heaven On Earth
© Surazeus
2017 08 24

When rainbow strikes my heart with love for life
I stand against the gang of marching thugs
who cry for liberty and sovereign rights
for themselves alone to control all things.

We must arm our hearts and prepare for strife
against angry men who wave bleeding flags,
then toil to ascend the glorious heights
of victory against tyrants and kings.

To defend well the apple and the loaf
we must free our hands and loosen our tongues
then fight when love for liberty unites
our hearts in noble cause where justice springs.

Each age in spinning of the world we find
that people twisted by blind hate of fear
will threaten to destroy our peaceful work
and yet good souls will fight for liberty.

When gangs of cowards clutching guns attack
to chain our hands so we would slave to live
we must unite our dreams in noble goal
to free all souls from slavery of greed.

When rainbow strikes my heart with love for truth
I stand bold for justice for every soul
then plant secret fruit seeds in blood-soaked soil
and thus restore sacred heaven on earth.

Broken Radio Of Lucifer

Broken Radio Of Lucifer
© Surazeus
2017 08

Though we walk through numberless doors of hope,
clutching books that bubble dreams in our eyes,
we have to count keys and learn how to cope
while everyone we love suffers and dies.

I leave cracked flower pot on the window pane
and watch bees weave light through the morning mist
to laugh about memories lost in the rain,
having forgotten the last time we kissed.

The world shudders at stomp of angry feet
when people gather in parks to protest
arrogant man who proclaims himself king
even though he lost the ancient contest.

I leave my father and mother behind
in the ruins of old world view that crashed,
then build new castle of truth in my mind
but search in vain for the jewels they stashed.

I look in mirror at my aging face
and see kings who once ruled in castle towers,
but I build new world view on solid base
of science and reason hidden in flowers.

While stumbling through the labyrinth of my lust
I hurt both strangers and friends whom I love,
but no one yet died from misguided trust,
and every new day I seem to improve.

We spin dizzy on the merry-go-round
of social change, clutching at old world view,
but who can escape the cosmic fairground
where the weeping clown hides the treasure clue?

On the beach of visions, before sunrise,
I play chess with Death who gives me new name,
although each time I lose I grow more wise
and gain new mastery to play the power game.

Look deep in my eyes and you will perceive
gold snake on misty island in blue sea
who makes light and teaches me to believe
what my hands can touch and my eyes can see.

When I descend with gold Tablet of Truth
from Takoma, mountain where muses sing,
I reveal new world view forged by the sleuth
who explains the universe is One Ring.

Our Journey Forward

Our Journey Forward
© Surazeus
2017 08 17

I feel the history of our human race
flowing through me in a river of song
since we first transformed from the dreamless eye,
and from the deep ocean of swirling waves
we crawled up the river of shining hope
to crouch on the shore of shivering fear.

How clearly I remember looking up
to see the round fruit on the tree of life
illuminated by the golden sun
piercing my heart with hungry ache of love,
and how I plucked it with my grasping hand,
and how its sweet juice simmered in my mouth.

I felt the spinning world inside my breast
explode in gusts of wind that swelled my soul,
and ocean waves throbbed in my fragile skull,
and hot rivers pulsed through my tingling limbs,
and I remember standing on the rock
and stretching my arms to embrace the sky.

But then I shrank down in my fragile shell,
and trembled at the spinning of the world,
and shivered in the long dark formless night,
and dreamed the big bang of the blasting sun
that shaped the mountains and seas from the void
and clumped my mind in this body of flesh.

No name yet did I breathe from gasping grunt
to separate my self from teeming world,
and yet I climbed the highest tree of rage,
longing to fly among light clouds with birds,
and howled into the blustering storm of fear
to capture lightning in my grasping hand.

Alone I gazed at twinkling stars of light,
feasting on fruit at the dawn of dream time,
so when I look around our world today
I see my single soul of dreaming hope
fragmented in seven billion souls
who remember the hour I first woke.

I turn to you and gesture with my hand,
express the sound I assigned as your name,
and lead you forth from our safe cave of dreams
to explore the weird mysteries of our world
and gather food in baskets on our arms
that we consume while sitting by the sea.

Today I stand in bright library hall
and study a large world map on the wall,
then wonder where we first crawled from the sea
to follow the fresh river to the cave,
and where we first climbed into the tree of fruit
to sing in choirs with love to the stars.

How far we swung on vines from tree to tree
in chattering crowds through lofty canopy
from towering peaks of China by the sea,
along the snow-gleaming mountains of India,
and to the lush jungles of Africa
where we came down and walked on upright legs.

We follow the sun that burst from our eyes
and weave the thin golden thread of our souls
into the fabric of this spinning world
as we become its dream of molecules
so all the history of our fight with death
lights our journey forward around the sun.

Statue Of God

Statue Of God
© Surazeus
2017 08 18

When the sun shoots arrows of Cupid straight
through the hearts of nameless people who seek
the secret of love in the leaves of trees,
we gather at midnight in city square
and invent new hymn to praise Liberty.

All my dead ancestors follow my steps
like black smoke from a burning car that hurls
heedless of signs on the highway to Hell
where Hecate holds mirror to my face
that reveals how my ancestors survived
ten thousand years of empires and wars.

We are engaged in a new civil war
in endless cycle of battle for truth
where we must fight to defend Liberty
against selfish tyrants of slavery
for every whole human being to live free
by treating other people with respect
in daily course of our lives to create
statue of God on pyramid of eyes.

I walk cold city streets without a job
to stand before stores in long ragged coat
and sing riddles disguised as prophecies
that reveal how warriors of Liberty
will always defeat the nationalists
who attempt to exploit people for profit
so everyone enjoys fruits of their labor.

They whisper in my mind what they would do,
my ancestors who hover by my head,
and weave visions of faces on white clouds
who play strange roles in dramas my mind conjures
so when I watch living people perform
actions that hide their most secret desires
I see ancient myths of dead gods reborn.

Can I rewrite the script of lusting hope
my ancestors programmed into my brain
and change my fate that their actions defined
to revise assembling farmers and builders
into armies of screaming men with swords
then storm the castles of rapists and thieves
who crowned themselves kings appointed by god?

Every religion in history of mankind
elevates their founder as noble god
who united their dreams in single purpose
to kill or be killed in war for survival,
then builds their temples on skulls of the vanquished
whose blood nourishes the flowers of peace.

Build a statue of sand to honor me
because I am a nobody who failed
to brand my name on the hearts of my people
who wander scattered far across the globe
so when they gather on the river shore
at sunset to share in the feast of sorrows
they will sing hymns to the crucified fool.

I stand in the soft grass of my lush lawn,
frozen at the moment of my long life
when I was blinded by epiphany
that revealed the tale of humanity
fighting for the purpose of liberty
against the vile practice of slavery
embodied in the statue of one person
whose name replicates our bodies of flesh
that tingles with lust to regenerate
eternal soul in children of our hearts.

I stand before the statue of my father,
wearing the gold mask molded from his fame,
and feel the flame of hope burning my heart
to transcend the legend of his great deeds,
so I may journey beyond the stone walls
he erected from skulls of fallen tyrants
and build my own secret garden of fruit
where my children rebel against my rule.

Embodied within this statue of God
I see the faces of all my ancestors
who killed people so people may live free
and carved basic rules on tablets of stone
to control the script of our social play,
so I film the actions of ancient kings
and present their lives in movies we watch
that flicker forever on temple walls
till new generations smash all our idols
and erect new statues of their own heroes.

I am no statue of marble or brass
who stands blind and mute in the public park
to symbolize drama of history
but I will fight to defend Liberty
of every good human being to live free.

Streets Of Charlottesville

Streets Of Charlottesville
© Surazeus
2017 08 13

We gather in the streets of Charlottesville
to protest fascist Nazi goons
who claim that white people should rule the world,
and sing, all people should live free.

Above the peaceful streets of Charlottesville
the statue of Robert E. Lee
still stands in sunlight to commemorate
his vile defense of slavery.

We march the narrow streets of Charlottesville
to defend truth and liberty
and tear down from lofty height of glory
the statue of Robert E. Lee.

Nazis invade the streets of Charlottesville
to praise General Robert E. Lee,
but we defend rule of equality
and sing, all people should live free.

Young Heather, marching streets of Charlottesville,
raises flag of freedom in wind,
and declares, we should not discriminate,
for all are equal in this world.

Prowling the crowded streets of Charlottesville,
James guns car engine and zooms fast
then plows into huge crowd of protesters,
crushing Heather to death in rage.

We scream in the red streets of Charlottesville
as James races fast to escape,
while our warrior of justice lies dead,
killed in the war for liberty.

Lay flowers on the streets of Charlottesville
and dedicate your loyal heart
to fight for freedom and justice for all
where Heather died for liberty.

When fascists march the streets of Charlottesville
and threaten liberty for all,
light your heart with spirit of love
and march strong for justice and truth.

We gather in the streets of Charlottesville
to fight for true equality,
and raise new statue of wise Liberty
in memory of our patriot.

Statue Of Aethelbertus

Statue Of Aethelbertus
© Surazeus
2017 08 10

Staring at the statue of Aethelbertus,
first Christian King of Kent, carved from white stone,
who stands tall in Canterbury Cathedral
on my misty island of Avalon,
I see my own face reflected in his,
like millions of souls in America
descended from both gods, Jesus and Woden.

What are gods but ancestors of us all
who show us how to grow beyond ourselves
and dream reborn in our genetic coils
that spiral sparkles in our dreaming brains?

Having stripped all ideologies away,
to free my mind from delusions of faith
in religion and nationalist pride,
I stand naked in the cold rain of time
only myself, creature of flesh and blood.

Named Albert at birth in lush Oregon,
far from the misty island where he ruled,
I drop the mask all my ancestors wore
and walk faceless in the vast city streets
where people from every nation on Earth
swirl together in silver Seattle rain.

I see the children of all ancient gods
alive in new bodies of flesh and blood
inventing new dramas of love and war
we write through daily routines of our lives
preserved in tales of personalities
playing roles that express spirit of our times.

I may be King Albert alive again
but I tear away the cocoon of his mask
so my soul emerges with unique wings,
and give myself new name, Surazeus,
to dream the ancient world with reborn eyes.